The Wanderlust
by Badfish17
Summary: What if, one day, you lost everything? What if you had to give up everything and leave it all behind? What would you do? Where would you go? How would you survive? SxN at first then SxK M for later content.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, or any other game/movie/song/book/TV show that may be mentioned

Steps. All of life is steps. Whether it is the step out of the door to go to school, the step into your car as you drive away, or the calm, measured step into your grave, it all boils down to the steps you take and the steps you don't take. Maybe I am being too serious for the first part of this story is lighthearted. Most authors, men and women who are far greater storytellers than I, start out their stories with a lighthearted beginning to counteract the deep emotional tragedy that occurs later in the story. But I digress. The purpose of this portion of the story is to explain my beginning and maybe find out where it all went wrong.

My life wasn't always so bad. I was a popular kid, accepted by most. Of the many cliques, groups, clubs, teams, and gangs in school, I did not belong to a single one. I did, however, fit one of the outdated classroom stereotypes established in the seventies and never really expanded on: the class clown. Many people today would not believe me if I told them how I used to act, who I used to be.

Experiences reveal who you are. Before I experienced life as it truly is, I was a regular child. I went to high school, was part of a band (not a very good one), was reasonably fit though not overly muscular like those stupid jocks, and had a beautiful girlfriend who loved me. I can't believe I still remember her after all this time. Her name was Namine. I found her to be beautiful, though many of the meaner kids at school would disagree with me. She was an innocent artist. Maybe that is what I found so appealing in her. I always hated school with its pointless tasks, its unfortunately proclivity to enforce stereotypes and cast away the downtrodden, the depressed, the poor, the unattractive, and all others turned away by those "perfect" kids who always looked down on those who were different than the socially accepted norm, and I especially hated how the "system" out these "people" on a pedestal. Though I was accepted by these people, I despised them.

Namine stayed pure despite all of the evil influences around her. She just wore a simple white dress most days, almost to emphasize her difference from the rest of the girls whose outfits became more and sluttier as the years went by. Don't get me wrong, I am no prude. That doesn't mean I like it when girls give it away for free, acting like the tramps the girls have been told to accept, even admire. Namine was an artist, as I have previously mentioned. She drew the most amazing pictures. She said that creations should capture what the artist is feeling at the moment. She mostly drew her surroundings, sometimes she drew people but only people she liked. One time she drew me. I liked it but she said that she was too close to the subject to draw an accurate likeness.

I tried to incorporate what she had said about art into my music and my writing but neither of those was any good for me. She was my little artist, as I used to call her. You may wonder why I haven't described her physical appearance. There are many reasons for that I suppose. First and foremost being that she wasn't that attractive. She didn't even wear that much make-up, just a little eyeliner to bring out her beautiful eyes. I didn't care about that. I loved her personality. I know, a cliché, but it's true. I also loved that she understood me better than I knew myself at the time.

It is hard for me to speak about her even after all this time, not only because she was my first love but also because at the time I didn't organize my thoughts very well. What I have to work with is a confused jumble of feelings, half remembered memories, and fuzzy, unfocused dreams.

I do, however, remember a few blissful days of my past life. The first day I met was a day like any other. I woke up late thinking of the latest prank to pull on the horribly incompetent teachers. I had decided to cough real loudly anytime my history "teacher" decided to talk. It went down very well but I saw her sitting there quietly, not laughing. That was the first time I saw her face especially the way the light reflected off her pale white skin making it glow. It looked best when she smiled which was not often enough for me. I instantly felt a small feeling of shame when I saw her. I felt like I was a child compared to her serious demeanor.

I think I changed that day. That wasn't the first time we dated. She was shy and it took me a while to get her to believe that I was serious about wanting to be with her. Our first date was private. We didn't go to a movie, a restaurant, or the park. We went to her house and we looked at her private art album. She was into realistic art. She said paintings and drawings should capture a moment in time. The perfect paintings should crystallize the intricate subtleties of that moment in time. I tried to write a song about that but I find that poetry and songwriting are two skills I may never have.

During the worst parts of my journey I was able to cling to my memories of Namine. That is why it tears me up inside to think of her now. Because of the tragedy that begins my story proper I can never see her again. Many people do not get to experience a single day when their whole lives changed.

Mine was a Saturday.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts and I am not making any financial gain from this story

(a/n) I haven't updated in a while. I was hoping for a review but didn't get one. So I decided to write a new chapter. Let this be a lesson: if you don't review you will get more chapters. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!

Cold. I can still feel the cold from that day. It was the kind that pierced your skin, making you feel as cold on the inside as you were on the outside. The cold didn't matter at that moment, the moment my world changed. I was already cold.

When you lose everything that matters to you, people think you become hot with rage and fury. Those people haven't experienced what it is like to really lose everything. All I could feel that day was cold. Not like winter cold, but a numb, empty cold, like my body had lost all its warmth.

I lost something more than people and possessions that idea. I lost my perspective. I lost my faith in humanity. Before I was pretty happy; my ignorance and naivety kept me from seeing the cold hard truth. All it took was one little push to change me entirely.

Being a white kid from the east side…of Suburbia, I didn't really know how to survive on my own. I had no transportation, no money, and only the clothes on my back. I was able to access my parents' account for my college and take out everything. That gave me a few thousand dollars to keep going. The only relative I knew about lived in Florida. So I had to go south before winter came and I was left homeless in the cold.

Shoplifting is an art. Some people think it is just taking some gum from the checkout line and running out of the store. That is stupid and means you can never go to that store again. The art comes from not getting caught. You see, laws are about consequences. Therein lies the fundamental problem with the law: no matter how serious the consequences may be, the law cannot physically stop some from committing a crime. If you are smart and good on your feet you can get away with a lot of petty crimes.

First it helps to be attractive, no matter which gender you are. One suave look at the cashier and you have her. Then be causal. If you are jittery and sweating, the cashier and the customers are going to be suspicious. Next pick small things that fit in your pocket and there are a lot of. Then most importantly, actually buy something. It could be a bottle of soda and some gum but it will take suspicion off of you. If the scanning things at the exit went off, I just took out my receipt showing that I am a respectable customer and flash the cashier a winning smile.

It was a real learning experience to live on my own. Some would see it as freedom. It was true I had "nothing left to lose." Unfortunately, that does not make one free. I had to do everything to keep myself alive. I had to get all my food, I had to find a safe place to sleep, I had to be responsible for protect my life. I never had to deal with that before in my life. It was overwhelming.

One day I "found" enough money to buy a train ticket. Trains are a smart way to travel: cheaper than a cab, less of a hassle than an airplane, and don't need water like a boat. Most people prefer cars because they are more secluded and you don't need to worry about missing your car like you would a train or flight. Alas, I did not own a car, leaving the train to be the best option. I couldn't afford one to Florida, so I chose a cheaper one to New York.

New York is an amazing place especially the city but a story for another time. What was notable about the train ride were the passengers. I sat alone. Not too many people rode an hour-long train ride at 1:00 in the morning. That was when the freaks came out. There was the probably homeless man with one tooth which was yellow. You would think with one tooth he would have time to brush, floss, and rinse the tooth properly. But no, he is going let the last tooth he has go to waste.

The most amazing passenger was an 82-yr-old woman inexplicably on a train at one in the morning. She sat down next to me and said "It is awfully late for a teenager to be alone on a train."

I was not in a good mood so I responded "Technically it is morning and I am fine by myself."

She smiled and responded "Don't you have a family to be with?" She saw the look in my eye. She must have guessed what had happened. "Where are you headed all by yourself then?"

"Florida, I guess."

"Do you family there?"

"I think so. Why are you talking to me?"

"No one should be alone this late, or should I say this early," she said smiling at the last part.

I didn't realize how much I appreciated her company then. "Then why are you by yourself?"

I thought I had her but she simply laughed and said "I am not alone now that I am talking to you."

"Touché."

"I have seen the look in your eyes before. You lost someone special, didn't you?" I had no response. I couldn't even look in her eyes so she continued. "I know how it feels. My first love went into the military. He just ran away to escape his problems. I got one letter from him. He merely explained why he left and told me not to blame myself."

"Did you ever see him again?"

"No. He died out there and never returned. They never even found his body to bury. So why are you running?"

"Who says I am running?"

"You do."

I was stunned. How could a complete stranger know me so well? "I had to go or everyone would have been in danger."

"Did you know that?"

"Absolutely. I had no choice but to go!"

"You always have a choice."

Then the Amtrak announcer announced that we had stopped and reached our destination. I got up from my seat to leave. I was visibly shaken and the guard noticed. He looked at me and said "You look…off. Are you alright?"

"Yeah I was just having a conversation with this old lady…" I turned to ask her name but she was gone. "I guess she had to be somewhere. But you know who I am talking about right?"

"No, there was no old lady in this car. Are you sure she was there?"

'What' I thought. I knew she had to have been there. I told the guard that she moved from another car. I later learned that moving cars during the ride had become illegal. To this day I don't know if she truly existed but I will never forget her words to me. I could feel myself changing but I wondered what I was becoming.

(a/n) please review. Also what exactly started the journey will not be revealed until later but I promise that it will make sense. Also if anyone would like to make a story I give them my full permission and my blessing. I would be glad to see my idea become a better story than I could ever write. Also if anyone notices any grammar mistakes please put it in the review because I don't have an editor. As for the moving cars thing, I am not sure if that is right but it helps in the story.


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